Farewell Forever
by ohretro
Summary: Short oneshot about life in Azkaban. Is it always more cruel to fear death than to die?


**Disclaimer:** It belongs to JKR. I own nothing really. So don't sue me. A couple of lines are also taken from the book 'Catch me if you can' and I don't own them either.

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He had never been colder, his feet dragged the ground, and his heart was like lead. He turned, and saw several guards heaving the door shut. The sea thrashing against the rocks being the last sight that he saw.

"Aeternum vale." He murmured, he had known that language once, he thought, but now it meant nothing.

He was shoved down a path. The walls looming over, and he visibly shivered.

"You'll be in 'ere." The guard grunted, and he took a moment to look around. If he stood in the middle, he could touch both walls at once. The walls dripped with moist, the only source of fresh air slithering through a tiny grate at the top of the wall.

The iron door creaked shut. He was alone. Above the door lay a small stone plaque, in which the words 'Iustita omnibus' were engraved.

"Profound, no?" A voice whispered in his ear, from no visible source. "Through the wall." He suddenly realised that the corner of the thick stonewall had been ebbed away. Years of doors slamming, had crumbled the stone, to leave a gap the size of his finger from his cell to the next.

"How can-"

"They always look at the engraving first. And last. There is nothing else to look at. Iustita omnibus. Justice for all."

"Oh."

Then silence fell, and silence lingered. Ruptured only by the screams that broke out periodically, a sound so horrible to hear, the sound of someone driving themselves insane. Yet he welcomed the screams, a reminder he wasn't alone. A brief moment of contact with someone else.

The only source of light seemed to come from the grate, where it peeked in tauntingly. Though when, what he could only guess was nightfall the light ceased, the grate seemed to close over. He waited, blinking, for his eyes to adjust. But it never came. The eyes do not adjust to total darkness.

He wanted to talk, to simply hear the sound of human voice. Yet as he sat, with just his thoughts for company, he could recall the taunts of his childhood bully who had caught him thinking aloud

'The first sign of madness is talking to yourself!'

He had smirked. No, he couldn't speak aloud, for that would be taking the first step down a path of no return.

The only way to judge the time was by the ever-constant opening and closing of the grate. Morning it would open, only to show teasing glimpse of the sky outside, then shut again as evening drew to a close.

He tried to keep count, was that 3 nights or 4? 5 weeks or 6? It was an impossible task. But when left with nothing, one strives for an activity. Anything to prolong inevitable.

Meals would come in, yet they seemed to stick no schedule. The door would swing open, a quick glimpse of the passage way outside. Full of doors, all mirroring the one he would stare at all day. Nothing different. Sometimes the meal would come at night, others in the day.

Not since he first arrived had the voice beyond the wall spoken again. They seemed as silent as him, not even reverting to anguished screams. He would sometimes wonder if he was now beyond screaming, that the sinister greeting he had offered were the last straws of sanity.

Yet that wouldn't follow the pattern. Even in Azkaban, hidden in the coldest corner, there were traces to human behaviour. The newcomers would scream, almost constantly, threats, pleads and explanations. Anything to tell themselves they weren't giving up hope. But then eventually the hope was snatched away and then quietened down. Till such point where their last reasonably thought, was also taken. Then the screams would start again.

Fight as he did, the monotony finally caught up with him. Days with nothing to do but dwell in your own depressing thoughts finally began to take its toll on his mind. A last desperate attempt to keep hold of who he was, he leaned over to the crack in the wall.

"You there?" He murmured, the sound of his hoarse voice shocking him.

"No, I've just popped out for a bite to eat." The voice replied, in barely more than a whisper, a pale attempt at humour, but a most welcome one. "Did you want something?"

"I... no." He trailed off weakly, "Just…"

"Just to talk? To prove you still can?"

"Yeah.." He said, "Something like that."

"Why would you do that?" Asked the voice,

"I need to stay… I can't end up like them." He replied, a note of panic in his voice, as another scream echoed around the fortress. "I've got to get out of here…sane."

"It's a simple as that is it?" Pausing as the grates clanked shut and darkness loomed the voice gave a scornful laugh "Pity no one told the rest of them. Once you're here, you're in for the long haul. The sooner you lose control of your thoughts, the sooner you'll forget where you are. I'd let go of the hope of getting out."

"But-"

"This place never willingly lets out what it has taken in."

Ear-piercing, the walls seemed to shake with the fresh wails. He lay down, trying to block out the sound, which seemed closer than ever. For a brief moment he thought of his fellow prisoner through the wall. Had he finally snapped? The screams sounded so close. But this idea was quickly squashed when a hissed

"Oi." Came through the gap, "Snap out of it." Confused to the meaning of the words, he tried to reply but the words wouldn't come. He couldn't speak, he realised with a horrifying jolt, because he was already screaming.

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My first ever venture into the HP fic world, writing-wise, so uh… that was it. Also the words in Latin were translated by my mum, who hasn't studied it for over 30 years, so sorry if it's a bit dodge. I also realise now it clashes slightly with canon (They had bars, rather than solid doors) but never mind. My Betareader is swamped by college work, so this is just my crappy grammar, sorry again .**Reviews would be fab, if you wouldn't mind.**


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